Chasing Gold
by blind-broccoli
Summary: Archie can't find the words to say, "I love you." Betty and Jughead manage to say it without any words at all.


**Chasing Gold**

Perfect curls, not a single flyaway. That's the first thing you'd notice about Betty Cooper if you'd spared her just a quick glance. The cleanly pressed pink cardigans and modest girl-next-door blue jeans are an apt description of her character on the surface; prepared and comfortable. Having grown up with her, Archie knew this description was not strictly true. Betty's perfection lay in the kindness of her heart, in the loyalty to her family. It lay in the endless tutoring and late nights trying to get her own work done after spending an entire afternoon helping someone else with theirs. Betty's perfection grew from the endless optimism in her heart and the unending hope for something better. Betty wasn't perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination of society's construct of perfection. But Archie knew she was perfect for him. They were perfect for each other.

Months ago, when she'd confessed her feelings standing vulnerable on the front steps of her house, Archie had been too consumed with everything else going on in his life. His entire relationship with Mrs. Grundy had overwhelmed him; he could see now how damaging it had really been. He'd practically obliterated his friendship with Jughead, dropping out of his life when it was obvious now how much he'd needed the support. He'd begun lying to his dad, something they'd made a pact not to do upon his mother's leaving. His dependence on assurance had almost cost him the belief to continue to pursue his music. He wasn't going to let his fear of rejection (though he doubted there would _be_ rejection; after all, Betty wasn't exactly the type to just forget such monumental feelings) prevent him from telling Betty how he truly felt.

Except…..

A part of him hesitated. Not a massive part, but just enough that it prevented him from blurting out his feelings across the lunch table in front of all their friends. And lately, that seemed to be the only time he saw Betty when they weren't actually in a class. They hadn't spent any time properly alone together in weeks; either Veronica was hanging around, gossiping with Betty and regaling them all with tales of her Pussycat rehearsals, or Jughead was there, speaking in low tones to Betty and swapping snark with Veronica and Kevin. Betty spent a lot of her time with Polly, taking to spending a few nights a week at the Lodge residence. That meant that Archie couldn't even turn up to her house and face the wrath of Dragon Mama Cooper to see her. He never knew if she'd be there or not, and as much as he wanted to talk to Betty, he wasn't willing to face down with her mother on the off chance that she'd be there.

So he waited, watching her interact with their friends and filling his head with lyrics too numerous to write. Everyday he fell more in love with her, and everyday she seemed to get more and more oblivious to his changed (or realized) feelings. He wrote his feelings into songs and quiet poetry, traced his love across the strings of his guitar and tried to imagine their perfect moment. It was weeks later when he realized that any moment with Betty was bound to be perfect, and his fear, however slight, could not hold him back any longer.

Shrugging his jacket on, Archie left the locker room after practice with a subtle underarm sniff and a decisive nod, securing his guitar safely on his back. Betty usually went to the offices for the Blue and Gold after school, presumably working on her articles for the school paper. He imagined Jughead would probably be there too, although he couldn't imagine they'd be doing anything too terribly important that he couldn't interrupt. They'd probably both be pleased to see him, inviting him to conversations that could not stray too far from schoolwork and investigation theories between two such contrasting personalities. Opposites may attract, but not so much that completely different people with a only few years of meaningless childhood friendship in common could be too close. Strolling up to the door of the office, Archie couldn't stop the nervous flutter of his heart at the thought of finally telling Betty.

Standing in front of the closed door, he imagined the beaming smile she would throw him when he stepped through the door. She'd probably drop her pen, or close her laptop to ask him what he was doing with obvious happiness. Their chat would fill the previous silence, and Jughead would probably take the hint and vacate the room. After a few minutes Archie would clear his throat, maybe take Betty's hand before meeting her eyes. Betty would quiet with a soft smile reserved just for him, and would intuitively know what he was going to say. Maybe her eyes would brim with unshed tears (the happy kind, of course), or maybe she would cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and-.

Archie's daydream was abruptly cut off by a high squeal of laughter, followed by a choked, "Juggie, _stop_."

What the hell? Did Jughead have a _girl_ in there? Where was Betty? It took a minute for Archie to place the continued laughter mixing with Jughead's deeper chuckle. Betty? _Betty?_ Betty and Jughead? What were they doing? Suddenly reluctant to enter the room he'd been so eager to before, Archie twisted the old metal knob and softly eased the door open. And would have collapsed under the weight of the guitar strapped to his back if he'd not reached out and braced himself against the wall while he attempted to recover from his shock. Because what he saw through the now open door was _Jughead pinning Betty against the worn cushions of the office couch while one hand leisurely ran up and down the left side of her ribs._ Betty was laughing harder than Archie had seen in weeks, and Jughead's face held a smile he'd never even _seen_ before. Jughead's trademark beanie was discarded next to the monitor of one of the old computers, and as he watched Archie saw Betty reach up and tangled her fingers in his dark curls.

What. The. _Hell?_ When had this happened? Why hadn't they told anyone? Why hadn't they told _him_? Archie forced himself to retreat as Betty brought Jughead's head down to her own, their laughter fading as something more intimate took its place. The stark contrast of Jughead's dark hair mixing with Betty's golden locks was burned into his eyes as he softly shut the door, unnoticed, and stood standing alone again in the hallway. Looking at the door now, and taking note of the silence from inside (though not the reason for it), Archie could almost pretend that none of what transpired has just happened. He could pretend that he'd opened the door and found no one inside, the computers turned off and the lights dimmed, and that he'd gone home to wait another day for his reveal. But he could not forget this, could not imagine ever being able to forget every detail now seared into his brain. What should he do? Confront them? Demand that Betty tell him how she'd moved on so fast, and whether she'd ever had any real feelings for him. But remembering the lightness etched into the faces of two of his oldest friends, Archie couldn't bring himself to be the reason for the return of their drawn faces and constant worry-knit eyebrows.

Resigning himself to going home without Betty happy on his arm, Archie retraced his steps and returned to the locker room. He needed a way to clear his head, and if there was was fail-safe way he knew how, it was to tire himself out so much that he couldn't even _dream_ of thinking about anything more complex than food and sleep. When Archie woke the next morning he forgot for a moment why he felt like he'd been hit with a truck, his muscles as stiff as they were. Stretching his arms over his head in an attempt to loosen his shoulders, Archie wondered how the day would play out. Would everything look different now? Would he read a secret message in every interaction between Jughead and Betty? Would he gape at them in disbelief as everyone else around them continued on in oblivion?

The truth became obvious almost as soon as Archie got to school. _Everyone else already knew._ He saw the smirk Veronica shot in Jughead's direction as he and Betty appeared, the former carrying more than one copy of each book needed for their morning classes while the latter sipped delicately from a green tea with both hands. The half-hearted glare Jughead threw in her direction prevented any verbal comments, but the smirk said more than enough. Betty's raised eyebrow in Jughead's direction and his answering quirk of the lips was enough to make Archie turn around and skip his first class.

The jealousy rang true, cursing through his veins with a surprising ferocity and deafening him to any sounds other than the rushing hum in his ears. Archie wasn't used to rejection, and although Betty hadn't actually rejected him, her ability to move on so fluidly felt the same way he imagined it would have felt. For the first time in his life, Archie wanted someone who didn't want him back. It was a foreign feeling, and the truth of it kept him silent until lunch, where he discovered Veronica wasn't the only one in the know.

It was a subtle thing, really, and if he hadn't been watching so intently, Archie wouldn't have taken any notice. As it was, he had a perfect view of the occupied space on the bench beside Betty becoming suddenly vacant as the stomp of Jughead's boots approached the table. There was no indication that the reason for Kevin's relocation had anything at all to do with Jughead's arrival, as he immediately started up a conversation with Veronica about possible plans for Friday night. What gave it away to Archie was the quick wink sent Betty's way as Kevin questioned whether or not she would be too busy to go out, and the meaningful tilt of his head in Jughead's direction. Betty's blush bloomed suddenly across her cheeks and down her neck as she threw a chip in his direction and exchanged glance with Jughead, who simply shrugged as if to say, "It's up to you, Betts." Betty shifted her eyes over to Veronica and back again to Jughead, and his quick grimace was answer enough for her. As Betty answered, "Sorry Kev, I don't think I'm quite ready for whatever extravaganza V has planned," Archie took a second to reluctantly allow himself to be charmed by their fine tuned non-verbal communication.

If he hadn't been so keen on Betty, he might have allowed himself to root for her relationship with Juggie. As it was, he had enough respect for their obviously blooming relationship to not attempt to interfere. While Betty may have been perfect for him, it was equally clear from the enamored look in Jughead's eyes that he believed she was his perfect match, too. And he hated to admit it, but maybe there was something there, something he couldn't see, that made them special. Archie knew that Jughead had been there for Betty in some of her worst moments this year, and he couldn't pretend not to know that it was mostly Betty's influence that kept Jughead staying with Veronica, when he'd so steadfastly refused any help from Archie himself.

Who knows, maybe Betty and Jughead were endgame, maybe they weren't. But Archie was willing to wait; after all, Betty was worth waiting for. Besides, she didn't know she had options, yet. Things could change. Archie was counting on it.


End file.
